


Toxic

by SebsNightmareCure (orphan_account)



Series: 50 Worst Dates (MCU) [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Bucky Barnes Feels, Crying, Explicit Sexual Content, Grinding, M/M, Not so happy ending, PWP, Porn, Self Loathing, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, all that good stuff, self hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 14:18:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14022111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/SebsNightmareCure
Summary: The mission was too much. Bucky is a lucky man to have someone to welcome him home, even if it is a surprise.





	Toxic

**Author's Note:**

> Do I know where this idea came from? Nope. Am I here for it? Yes Sir!  
> This is my first smut work, and if you want someone to blame for it, forward all complaints to @sf9pentagoner on Tumblr. Not proofread, 'cause I'm lazy, and not beta'd 'cause no one wants to.  
> Enjoy.

He could never have imagined it would hit this hard. The guilt, the shame, it washed over him like a bucket of ice water in slow motion, slowly freezing his mind and flooding the emptiness that used to live there. He was cold, achingly cold, and so full of guilt. 

It’s not like he hadn’t killed people before. The number was probably in the hundreds. But, he was just a weapon at that time. A long range missile for HYDRA to fire at whomever they pleased. He had been carved out, set aside from himself. It hadn’t really been him doing the killing back then. He’d never had to feel the aftermath like this. He hadn’t been able to, and even if he had, they put him back on ice faster than you could say ‘Mission complete.’ The emotions wouldn’t have time to hit.

Bucky leaned back in his seat, scrubbing his hands back and forth over his face. When Deputy Director Hill had offered him a chance to get back into the field, he’d jumped at it. Anything to get out of the Tower and do something. Anything, really. Even kill Russian mobsters, apparently.

Life had gotten weird since the Germany Incident. Tony had smoothed everything over, and they had long since made amends. The Avengers had moved back into the Stark Facility in New York, and life looked like it was going back to normal. Except that it wasn’t. It very much wasn’t. Steve had put his heroics before his common sense and had gotten cold feet. All the therapy and the deprogramming was too much for him. Neither of them were to blame, but there are some things a friendship just can’t take. Things couldn’t go back to the way they were, and Steve just wasn’t ready to accept that. He’d come around eventually, but for now, Bucky was floating alone in the twenty-first century.

Bruce and Thor had returned with Loki. The latter was the reason the Avengers were formed in the first place, according to Natasha. She also warned Bucky that Loki was bad news, with emphasis on the mind control and torture. But he didn’t seem too bad. They got along if given half a chance a little privacy. Bruce was fine, he helped Tony with Bucky’s arm and head. He was a little too doctor-like, though, and every now and then the scientist gave him the chills with his white coat and his medical terms.

Thor, on the other hand, was not fine. Well, he was great actually, amazing even. He was the only goddamned person in the whole tower he didn’t treat him like he was some bomb waiting to explode and kill everyone. He was good, and kind, and he loved to spar. He was also the only person really capable of taking him down. He was far stronger than Bucky would ever be, but their skills seemed to compliment each other. He was a more valuable member of the team than anyone  knew. Not to mention how damn hot he was. Seriously, _damn._

Bucky’d known he didn’t swing the traditional way since he was a kid. Girls were fine, but they just weren’t his thing. He kept his head down, though, and never did anything about it. Not until the war, at least. There was one memory about Howard Stark he’d never tell Tony. 

But Thor. God. Quite literally. He was beautiful, glowing and blonde, muscles threatening to break skin with every movement, he had that kind of striking attractiveness that no-one on earth had. He was like nothing Bucky’d ever seen before, and he was all Bucky ever wanted to see again. Blue eyes like the sky but better, the man was everything- 

Now was not the time to be fantasising. He’d just _killed people._ Three of them. Were they bad people? Sure. So was he. And killing bad people doesn’t make you any better. It just makes you a worse person with more blood on your hand. Not even Tony Stark could invent a soap strong enough to wash away all the things he’d done. His hands stained red, Bucky didn’t deserve to do so much as think about the Asgardian. He certainly didn’t deserve to do anything about his thoughts. 

Bucky let his pain wash over him. He deserved everything he’d gotten. He deserved the loneliness. He deserved nights full of nightmare, and he deserved the screams and the sweat and the darkness that came with them. He deserved this guilt. It was barely a taste of what he should be feeling, and he would relish in it. He was let it eat at him until it killed him. He hoped it didn’t. Death would be too merciful for him. 

The tears came before he could really stop them. Salt water soaked him face, running down his neck in warm streams as he shook, sobs wracking his chest. Maybe he should tell Hill he wasn’t ready for field work. The pain was real and there and weighing so hard on his chest it felt as though it would soon break ribs. Then again, what was pain when you deserved it? Pain is reward of the wicked. And he’d sinned every sin in the book. Checked every atrocity off the list, most of them twice at least. Hell had come to earth just for him, and who was he to deny his demons some fun? He wouldn’t withdraw from fieldwork, not until his blood had spilled as many times as he’d spilled that of others. He’d take his punishment, and he would wear it. Let it paint him red and black and blue. He would take what he had earned, and he’d take it until his screams died out and his lungs collapsed and his heart exploded.

Bucky cried. It wasn’t until he landed at headquarters that he stopped. The crying wasn’t cathartic. It never would be. There was no forgiveness in it for him. 

He handed in his weapons, filed his report, and changed out of his tac suit. He skipped the debrief and medical. There was no need for them. Eyes and ears had followed his every move on the mission, everyone already knew what needed to be known. The serum would heal any injuries he sustained. He didn’t need more men in white coats with needles in his life. 

His feet carried him down to the garage of their own accord. That’s where he’d find his motorcycle, Commando. He was a sick ride, and not cheap by anyone’s standards except Tony’s. It had been a Christmas gift from the Stark, and Bucky cherished it dearly. He’d always wanted his own bike, but money had always been tight and motorbikes few, so he dream went unfulfilled until the previous year, when they’d been chatting in the lab while Tony tweaked his arm, and bikes had come into the conversation. Bucky had mentioned off handedly how much he’d wanted one of his own. Tony had ordered the damn thing right then and there, even had it custom built for the super soldier’s size. And Commando was a beauty. A joy to ride, smooth and powerful, just like Bucky himself. They were the perfect pair, made for each other as it were. 

He suited himself up, letting the engine hum itself into warmth. The ride back to the Tower short, but Bucky allowed himself the luxury of enjoying it. Commando rode like an obedient horse, bending gently to Bucky’s commands and moving with perfect accuracy. He truly was a sexy piece of machinery. 

They both pulled into the car park of the Tower quicker than Bucky would have liked. Being back meant two things: Steve and Thor. Steve would be curt, he would indulge briefly in small talk, then he’d run off with his tail between his legs to hide, or maybe he’d leave to fuck Sharon. Or he’d just avoid Bucky from the confines of his floor. Thor would be the opposite. He’d be kind, and he’d banter in ways that made Bucky blush right down his chest. He’d just stick around and keep company, making sure Bucky was alright and comfortable. He was good in ways Bucky couldn’t describe. 

Bucky’s mouth spoke before he gave it permission to do so. “FRIDAY, who’s home?”

His voice sounded tired, and it cracked from crying.

“Doctor Banner and Mister Stark are in the laboratory. Thor is on the common floor. Loki is in his room. Captain Rogers and Miss Romanoff are out.”

The AI had the audacity to sound amused when she mentioned the blonde god. She had no right. It’s not like he’d shamelessly jerked off to the thought of the man since he got to the Tower. It’s like he’d cum moaning the Asgardian’s name more than a dozen times. Damn technology always spying on him.

Bucky made his way to the elevator. He was going to his own floor, to shower and cry-wank like a man. Maybe he’d even cry himself to sleep. Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

“Thor has requested your presence in the kitchen.” said FRIDAY.

“Why?” Bucky spat before he could stop himself. Why would Thor want to see him for any reason. He was so shocked he almost didn’t hear FRIDAY’s answer.

“He would like to check in with you post-mission. He has also overestimated the amount of quesadillas he can eat and may require assistance.” 

Bucky chuckled. The poor man, he was always ordering more food than he needed, and ended up with hilarious amounts of leftovers. He let the elevator take him to the common floor. There was blessed with a truly glorious sight.

Thor was lounging against the kitchen counter, naked from the waist up. Every inch of him beautiful. He had tan lines around his neck and arms that were prettier than they had any right to be. They were fading, almost blending fully into the rest the his skin, but they were there, sexy and tempting as causing an embarrassing situation in his pants and he was blushing and this was a huge mistake. He considered turning around and running for his floor as fast as possible, but it was too late. They made eye contact, and Thor smiled like the rising sun, and Bucky was gone. Beautiful pink lips flooded his mind. An innocent smile it may have been, but it was doing anything-but-innocent things to Bucky. He couldn’t leave now. Not when Thor was looking at him with that look on his face.

“Greetings, Bucky!” crooned Thor. And oh, fuck, wasn’t that the best sound in the world. Soft and rich like the flesh of a mango, deep and hoarse like it had always been. That voice that made Bucky want to drop to his knees and -

No. He had to stop thinking that. It was inappropriate. And distracting. Besides, that was a fantasy he would get off to later. No need to waste it now.

He walked into the kitchen, murmuring his own greeting as he went. He could barely tear his eyes away from the man. He was intoxicating.

“How was your mission?” asked the man. And there was the shame again. Not just the shame of the kill, but the shame of the lust. He shouldn’t want a man as good as the man in front of him.

“I killed people. It was, umm,” Bucky cleared his throat, “bad.”

Thor placed on top of his shoulder, rubbing a thumb back and forth. It was comfort, and forgiveness, and home, and Bucky hated himself for wanting something more.

“We have all slaughtered, brother. In war, it is kill or be killed.” said the other. He offered a sad smile before continuing, “And for men like us, the war may never be over.” 

The statement floored Bucky. Because he was _right,_ wasn’t he? He’d never really come back from the war. He just got shuffled from one to another. S.H.I.E.L.D was notorious for their bloodlust, and even if they didn’t call it by its true name, it was still war. Still a battle, combat for the sake of combat. He was still a soldier, even if he no longer went by Winter. Once a soldier, he guessed. 

The feelings welling up in him made his chest ache. Instead of confronting them, Bucky turned to get a plate from the cabinet above the refrigerator. No big deal, he’d done that before. It made no sense for him to suddenly be unable to reach, and yet. The plates must be on a higher shelf than unusual. He stretched his arm to its full extent, rising onto his toes. There was nothing for it. He couldn’t reach. He hadn’t been too short to get something in years. It was not a feeling he had missed. 

He was so concentrated on his task that he didn’t notice Thor had moved until it was too late. Strong hands clasped gently around his arms as torso of the Asgardian pressed against his back. One hand moved to his lower back, keeping him in place, the other reaching effortlessly to retrieve the plate from the high shelf. 

The man was so warm, radiating heat like a campfire, leaving little patches of heat wherever they went. Not many people were taller than Bucky these days, but that was just one of the hundreds of things he loved about the god. He may have only been a few inches taller, but he seemed to tower over everyone. The muscular arm, tensed with the effort to reach the plate, made Bucky damn near drool. It just wasn’t far. Everything this fella did had him melting like an ice cube in the summer. 

The movement was an oxymoron. It was innocent, sweet, some might say domestic. Thor had just been helping his friend get a plate off a shelf that was too high for him. It was simple, nothing weird or uncouth about it. But the feeling of Thor pressed against his back, a hand nearly on his arse, warmth and strength surrounding him, it was charged with all the dirty sexual tension Bucky had been trying to hide. It left him flushing right down his neck, the harsh, angry red of pure embarrassment. It contradicted itself at every turn, and left Bucky’s head spinning, with both want and confusion.

He hadn’t realised he had frozen in place until it was too late. Thor placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and turned him around so they were face to face. They locked eyes, blue connecting with blue, and Thor smiled. He handed him the plate with a smirk. Bucky found himself blushing impossibly harder. He broke eye contact, staring at the floor, dignity all but lost.

He loaded up his plate with some of the quesadillas from the counter, pointedly not looking at Thor _or_ thinking about him. Definitely not fantasising at all. He took at seat on one of the bar stools, and began to eat his meal. He didn’t really taste it, though. His mind was very much on other things. 

They both ate their food in companionable and sexually-charged silence for a while. Thor asked a few casual questions about the mission. Bucky did his best to answer like a normal person. He wasn’t sure he was giving the right answers, he wasn’t exactly hearing words at this point. He was just listening to the way the blonde’s voice sounded. Fuck, since when was everything this man did so damned sexy? His voiced was low and husky, gravelly and deep and low and _good._ He should really be at least trying to pay attention, but he couldn’t, not now that he was looking at the man’s mouth. The way it moved as he spoke was addictive. Talking shouldn’t be sexy, but it was. They do say that communication made for better sex, so it had to be a little sexy at least. And it was, _oh boy,_ it was. Thor’s teeth brushed his lips with every other word, his tongue darting out to wet them every once in a while. And Bucky, well, he was just gone on him. 

He finished as quickly as he could, occasionally choking on his food with the speed he was eating. He had to get back to his floor and deal with his, uhh, _situation,_ before anyone else noticed. It was embarrassing enough to be in this position, but it would be a thousand times worse if Thor noticed. He might just die if that happened.

He scrambled out of seat gracelessly, determined to put his plate in the dishwasher and disappear as fast as possible. His plan backfired spectacularly. He tripped over his own feet, blushed, apologised, and had barely made it two steps out of the kitchen before he was stopped. 

Thor had grasped his forearm gently. He could have walked out of that grip if he had wanted to, but a part of him didn’t want to. He wanted to see where this was going. He turned to face the other man, and found himself pinned to the wall. Fuck if that wasn’t the sexiest thing that had every happened to him.

“I fear I have not made my intentions clear.” husked Thor, eyes looking into Bucky’s soul with intensity he’d never seen before. “I’m afraid I don’t know how you do these things on Midgard. It is commonplace in my world to, how to say, let off steam with your comrades.”

Thor gestured his hand in an ascending twirl, the casual nature of the action contrasting the words he was saying. Was he, and this seemed to be ludicrous to Bucky, _propositioning him?_

“You seem to be,” Thor pressed his knee between the shorter man’s thighs, “in need. I would be delighted to lend a hand.”

Bucky must have died. Maybe he got killed on the mission, and this was what hell was like. He was going to be teased for eternity with the very thing he wanted most. It felt impossibly good, the thick leg pressed against his crotch. It was primal, exactly what he needed, but he needed more. But, he had to control himself. He needed to be sure he’d gotten this right. It took every muscle in his body to restrain himself as he spoke.

“You… um, you wanna,” he swallowed thickly, blushing harder, “with _me_?” 

Thor chuckled, low and drenched in sex. “It would be an honour. You are a beautiful man.”

Bucky’s head was spinning. He was definitely dead. There was no way this was happening in the real world. Maybe he’d just managed to make it to heaven, and this was his reward. He cleared his throat, looking away at the floor, trying to think of something to say. Anything really. Anything at all.

Thor wrapped a hand into the brunet’s hair and pulled. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get his attention. And get his attention it did.

The cracked gasp that left his throat was hot. He locked eyes with the Asgardian once more, and saw lust burning into every line on his face. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. He wouldn’t try. He never wanted to. The man leaned impossibly closer, yet the only places they were touching was his knee on Bucky’s groin and the hand in his hair. He stifled another moan.

“Feel no obligation to bed me. I understand if you would prefer your own company. But if you wouldn’t,” Thor licked his plush lips, “say something now. As you Midgardians would say, it’s now or never.”

He was so shocked he thought he might not be able to respond. He found his words, thankfully, before it was too late.

“Now.” Bucky all but begged. Oh, fuck it, why deny it. He begged. He begged real and true, as sweet as he could muster. He must’ve sounded a mess, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was alive and about to have what was set to be the sex of his life. 

Thor smirked, a dark chuckle bubbling out from his chest. The hand in Bucky’s hair moved onto his jaw, as the walking wet-dream in front of him tipped his head up for better access to his lips. The thigh between his legs pressed hard against him, grinding into his dick in slow, insistent thrusts. He bit back a moan, trying not to rock his hips. He didn’t want to look too desperate.

It was probably too late for dignity. Thor seemed to think so. He leant in close, pressing the length of his torso against the smaller man, angling his lips close to the man’s ear.

“Is it some form of etiquette to be silent when receiving pleasure? Because where I’m from, if your lover isn’t screaming, you are doing something wrong.” he leaned closer still, his breath fluttering over the brunet’s ear, “ _Let go.”_

He licked the shell of the ear. And Bucky, well, he wasn’t about to ignore an instruction like that. He let out a hoarse moan, loud and closer to a shout than anything else. He went lax against the wall, and if there hadn’t been a leg between his own to hold him up, he would be a puddle on the floor. 

Thor growled all sexy like. He ground his thigh harder into the aching cock in front of him, enjoying the feel of it. It had been too long since he had been with a man. Not many men on this planet had the stamina for it, and fewer were interested in trying in the first place. He had hit the jackpot with the soldier. Pretty blue eyes, currently shut tight from the overwhelming pleasure he with feeling. He had his lip pulled in between his teeth, biting it white, still trying to remain in control of himself. That simply wouldn’t do. These humans had the most backwards attitude when it came to their pleasure. They believed pleasure was for special occasions, and that all parties involved should pretend to not be enjoying themselves for as long as possible. That just added to the challenge. He was going to make Bucky Barnes scream his name if it took him the rest of the mortal’s life. 

Bucky felt the blonde press his thigh harder still against his cock, making it ache with need. He hand slid to his chest, nails dragging over his right nipple teasingly, sending sparks for sensation coursing over his skin. The other hand found his arse, kneading and scratching and doing some pretty great things all around. His head fell back against the wall, a harsh breath blowing out of his nostrils. And, well, he was the only one who could really be blamed for what happened next.

Thor took his unprotected neck as an invitation, dragging his teeth lightly over the Adam’s apple. His teeth were chased by his tongue, gentle and too damn good.

Bucky came. His body was burning with touch, it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. Anything he’d ever imagined, every little fantasy, paled in comparison. It was like trying to compare cat piss to chardonnay. His senses were overwhelmed. All he could see were stars and the back of his eyelids, all he could hear were his own moans. His sense of smell was overtaken by the smell of the man in front of him. He smelled like, well, Bucky didn’t know, but it was _great._

The high rushed through him. It was truly something. He’d never experienced something so intense before, and he was pretty damn sure he wouldn’t ever again.

Thor didn’t take his hands off him the whole time. Gentle hands held his hips, caressing with ease and patience. His lips, _oh God,_ his _lips,_ Bucky could write a damn sonnet about those. Soft and warm and passionate, they littered his neck with kisses, innocent and dirty, sending little bursts of contact all over him. Bucky was in heaven. 

Until he wasn’t. Once he’d come down enough to string a thought together, he realised what he’d down. He had just cum in his pants, like a horny, seventeen-year-old virgin. He had creamed his pants from some like grinding and some petting. He was frankly mortified. What the fuck? He’d just been handed the opportunity to fuck the God of Thunder himself, and he’d thrown it away for a couple of minutes of foreplay. He was such a goddamned idiot. 

Thor noticed the man had come back to himself. Returning to reality was rarely as blissful as the journey out of it. The soldier was squirming, the angry blush of shame returning. It didn’t take a genius to work out what was troubling him. He watched him squirm a while longer, continuing his gentle exploration of the man’s glorious neck, before pulling away.

Bucky couldn’t meet his eye. There was a wet patch on the front of his sweatpants. He looked cute, blushing and blundering like a virgin. Thor decided to be kind, and put him out of his misery.

“I must be doing something wrong.” he smirked, an air of fake concern in his voice.

Bucky’s head shot out, eyes wide in disbelief. He had to be kidding. He had just cum harder than he ever had, and this prick thought he’d done something _wrong?_ You couldn’t get much more right from this point. He was dumfounded. Worse than. He was flummoxed. That seemed more appropriate.

“B-wha…huh?” Bucky stuttered. It just made no sense. This guy was delusional. Great, he’d just gotten off with a whackadoodle.

“I clearly must try harder next time.” Thor elaborated, as if it were obvious. It was not. Bucky was more flummoxeder still.

“How could you possibly think that?” he whispered, squinting so hard he had practically closed his eyes.

“I have failed you.” 

When Bucky gave him another one of those confusion loaded looks, he continued.

“You didn’t scream, nor did you pass out. You are no more pleasure-ridden than you were when we began. In fact, you are in the same state that you were when we started.”

He was having a hard time keeping a straight face. The man in front of him was beside himself with confusion, practically exploding from the effort to try and comprehend his statement. The horrible shame that had painted his face was gone, his mind on other things. He was starting to truly realise how much he had enjoyed himself. It had all worked out how Thor had planned.

The blonde laughed. A guttural, joyous sound. 

Bucky caught up after a moment. It was a joke, a distraction. 

“You bastard.” he chuckled.

They laughed. The mood was broken. The laughter died down, leaving the men in a companionable silence. Bucky smiled happily up at his lover, post-orgasmic bliss smearing his features. He was a stunner. Thor toyed with the idea of taking him to Asgard, only for the purpose of watching the other gods lust after him. He shelved the thought for later.

Bucky had a wicked idea. Those were the best kind, he had found. He licked his lip, looking up at the blonde once more, a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“Well, Thor. It seems that you _have_ failed. But, I am as generous as I am sexy, and I’ll give a second chance.” 

That caught the god’s attention, a flash of lust crossing his features. It was smeared with excitement and greed. Bucky knew he was in for one heck of a night. He was swept effortlessly from the floor into the arms of the other. It shocked a surprise gasp out of him, and he wrapped his arms around the taller man’s neck to keep him steady. He let himself be carried to elevator, letting his imagination run a little wild. Would he get to suck a dick tonight? God, wouldn’t that be swell. He definitely hoped they got to fuck at least twice. He had a bit of a soft spot for bottoming. There was just something about it, letting himself be taken and used and fucked raw that made him weak at the knees. Topping was fun, too. Watching his lover falling apart from his tongue and hands and dick was _fucking awesome._ He wondered what Thor would look like when he came. The man couldn’t possibly get any sexier, that just wouldn’t be fair at all. 

As they entered Thor’s bedchamber, he realised he wouldn’t have to wonder much longer. He was placed lovingly on the floor, plush carpet squishing beneath the soles of his combat boots. The other walked over to the bed unbuckling his pants at his went. Bucky drooled a little watching his back muscles ripple and move as he walked. Seriously, it had to be illegal to look that good. The man turned to face him.

“I believe you may be overdressed, Sergeant. Strip.” He would’ve been crazy to ignore a command like that. He tore his t-shirt off, revealing his own chest. He knew he looked good, how could he not? Abs like a washboard, his physique was something to be admired. He also had some sexy scars if he did say so himself. Battle-worn and serum-enhanced, he looked damn fine. 

Thor thought so, too. He showed his appreciation with his eyes, hot and lust-clouded, he scanned every piece of flesh he could. Bucky dropped his gaze, flushing one more at the attention. He focused instead on ridding himself of his sweats. The blonde prowled over, slow and sultry, like a horny tiger or something. Bucky didn't have the wherewithal to think of a decent metaphor for how hot he was. He removed his boxers, revealing his cum-stained cock. It glistened in the light, cum cooling but not yet dry.

A hand that was not his own grasped his half-hard dick. It pulsed in pleasure as the hand swiped some of the cum. He looked up in time to watch Thor suck it off his finger. And that, _that,_ was the definition of hot. A racking moan slipped past his lips. The man smirked, removing his thumb from his mouth a taking another full of cum, bringing it Bucky’s lips this time. Now, cum-eating wasn’t really a kink for him. Cum tasted like cum, no big deal. But fuck, the action sent heat blossoming through his abdomen when it was the blonde adonis feeding him. He guessed everything was his kink when Thor was involved.

The blonde smirked, damn him, as heat spread through the soldier’s body. He looked away shyly, blood rushing to his face, painting him red. It was embarrassing how easy it was for this dumbass Asgardian to make him feel things. This whole night had been a complete surprise. He felt wrong-footed, lost, and above all else, unworthy. The self doubt that had been closing in on him all night seemed to overwhelm him suddenly. He cast his eyes down further, burning holes in the carpet with his eyes. _What if I fuck this up? What if he doesn’t like me? What if this is pity?_ Questions like knives shot through his brain, cutting and cursing as the went.

The room was too bright when he opened his eyes, and too small. He couldn’t stay here. This was bad. What had he done? Oh, _fuck,_ what had he done?

He hastily stepped away from the man in front of him, swallowing and ashamed, unable to meet his eye. Thor met him in his actions, stepping back, an air of concern in his actions.

“Sergeant Barnes?” he asked, handing the man the shirt he, Bucky, had been searching for with his eyes. And there it was, the concern and the fear, wrapped up in a lost expression. He had thrust upon his lover everything he had just been feeling. He couldn’t meet the man’s gaze. 

Thor opened his mouth to speak again. Bucky just couldn’t take it. He wasn’t going to stand here and explain why he was being suck a dick. He shook his head, turning to walk out.

Thor called his name.

“Sorry.” Bucky choked, boarding the elevator.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I love being an author, I get to write stuff like this.  
> If you see any mistakes, let me know.   
> If you want more shenanigans, come check me out on tumblr @sebastianthechristmaswhore, or you can read my other works.  
> Comments are always appreciated!


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